Room 316
by MeganxDegrassi
Summary: Clare and Imogen are roomies at Degrassi, a boarding school for the talented, but the past of the room is conflicting with the current day life of the two girls.


**Hello friend. xD. This is kind of weird for me to write for a few reasons: I'm starting in a Clare perspective and I don't much enjoy her character, but maybe by walking in her shoes I'll appreciate her a little more… maybe. And the other reason would be the number 316. It freaks me out, man XD. Okay, I hope nothing is confusing or anything and I hope you enjoy.**

*Clare*

The hallways to the dorm rooms at Degrassi, a boarding school for children with special _talents_ (or enough money), were noisy and erratic as everyone re-met the friends they'd missed over the summer and discussed family trips, bragging about anything they could find worthy in their self-obsessed minds. I sighed as I opened my door to the rather familiar dorm room I had left last spring. I took in the egg shell white walls and tan carpet with nostalgia of last year's events. I instantly thought about how I had spent almost every waking moment with a girl I'd never see again.

Julia had had a dark spirit to match her dark hair, but, she had a light heart. To most people, she's come off as shy and maybe a little bit weird, which was probably due to the amount of black she wore and the number of words she left unspoken. Few people understood her mindset, because what she didn't produce in words came out in her music. She was a phenomenal musician and she could have made it far.

She would have made it far if it weren't for that car accident. The accident that ended her life, the one that took her dark spirit, took her light heart, and took her exceptional talent away with one quick hit and run.

I sat on my twin sized bed on the left side of the room and looked across to Julia's old bed. Someone else would be taking that space soon. It was too soon. It didn't seem right, having someone else take her place; she hadn't even been dead for five full months yet. I didn't want anyone to replace her, neither would _he._

I let my mind wander to Eli for a second. He wouldn't want anyone taking her place; this was something I knew for a fact. I'd grown close to Eli soon after Julia's passing, consoling each other over the loss of my best friend and his girlfriend. Julia died in April, Eli and I were locking lips by the end of May. It was a terrible thing, the sick and twisted feelings of lust were rising from the feelings of hurt and pain that had taken over our hearts. When we finally realized how sick and messed up the relationship had been, which was right before we would go home for the whole summer, we cut the relationship immediately.

I missed Eli, and hadn't talked to him all since that day. I couldn't help but wonder that maybe if things had been different in some alternate universe, it would be right for him and me to be together. Maybe he and I would have been able to function properly in a relationship if things were different. So much of me wished we could, but a greater percent of me knew we couldn't. It was betraying Julia and we both knew it.

I laid back on my bed and shook Eli from my mind. Tears stung my eyes as I remembered those last few months with Julia. She had been going insane, and I mean _completely_ insane. She tried telling me about the haunting voices, asking me if I heard them too. I heard nothing. She woke up in the middle of the night screaming her head off more than a few times and she developed insomnia from being too afraid to sleep.

She made me promise her that I'd keep what was happening to her a secret, because she was afraid; she didn't want to be crazy.

It came to a point where I _had_ to tell someone; her music was starting to suffer and she kept saying crazier and crazier things. She told me that Sadie, her former roommate was there, she tried to tell me that she was trapped, everyone was trapped. She asked me if I saw her too. I saw nothing. It started to worry me more and more, Sadie was dead, she killed herself their freshman year at Degrassi. I grew frightened and told Eli first, hoping he would know what to do.

We tried everything to keep her from going completely mental on us. No matter what we tried though, nothing worked; she began having visions that she would explain to us as insane mass murders, dead bodies, suicides, and no matter what the scenario, everyone was dead. Finally, enough was enough and we went to the school's psychiatrist. We explained Julia's case mildly and she gladly took the pills she was beginning to be prescribed. The pills only worked for a week, which was long enough for her to realize that she could always find an escape in her music. Music was her one and only escape, so she began composing day and night, never seeming to rest. Her compositions slowly grew demented and she and Eli began to fight. She was irritable, everything he said to her seemed to make her snap, she cursed at him for trying to get her to sleep, and she swung at him when he tried to get her to eat. It was daily and seemed never ending.

But it did end; they fought until her very last hour, which was why Eli blamed himself for the death of his girlfriend. They got into a fight and she left campus angrily, and that was the last time we saw her.

I knew with every part of my being that no matter how many times they fought, he still loved her and all he wanted was for her to be happy and healthy. I didn't blame him for anything, even with as much as he blamed himself.

…

A knock sounded at the door and I sat up, wiping the tears that were streaming steadily from my eyes and putting on a smile, "Come in."

The door opened and a short brunette skipped in, "Are you Clare? You're my new roomy!" She squealed, running over to me and hugging me tightly, "I'm Imogen, and I have _no doubt_ that we will be best friends by the end of the week."

Her cheerfulness made me smile genuinely, "Well, hi there, Imogen."

She giggled and dropped her gigantic suitcase on the bed, "Want to know something silly I happened to notice?" She beamed at me and took a piece of paper out of her pocket.

"Okay, sure," I smiled back, patting the bed beside me for her to sit.

"Well, I always try to find something supernatural or signs the universe sends me about new situations. Our room number, 316, completely struck me. I'm sure it doesn't mean anything besides the fact that I'm completely crazy, but look!" She handed me the paper she had kept in her pocket.

I unfolded it and looked at it. It had '316' written on it about a billion times, "Okay, so what about it?" I asked.

She pointed at the middle of the page, "Look, flip the six and the three and it spells, D.I.E. Die! Isn't that silly?"

I looked up at her, completely disgusted, and shoved the paper back at her, "Is this some kind of _sick joke?"_

She looked confused and hurt from my abrupt actions and harsh tone, "What? Clare, no. It was just silly, a little interesting to me. Nothing to joke about…"

"Who told you? Who told you about Julia? And why did you go through all this trouble just to rub it in my face that she's _dead?_" Tears began streaming down my face again, following the paths of the dried tears from earlier. I stood up and crossed the room, balling my fists and digging my nails into my palms.

Imogen immediately ripped the paper in half and walked over to me, placing her hand on my arm, "Clare? Who are you talking about?" She spoke gently and looked me in the eyes with complete sympathy.

"My old roommate. My best friend," I told her through tears, hardly being able to speak each individual word, "Sh-she died back in-in April. She-she g-got hit bye a ca-car."

Imogen pulled me into a tight hug and stroked my hair, "I'm so sorry. If I had any idea… I would have never… My gosh Clare, I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am."

I hugged her back for a little while, letting myself cry on her shoulder. Then I pulled away and wiped my eyes, "I'm sorry I'm such a mess, I shouldn't still get this worked up. It's been over four months."

"It's okay to feel like that. I lost my mom when I was six and I _still _get worked up over it," Imogen confessed to me, resting a hand comfortingly on my shoulder.

I wiped my eyes once more and then smiled comfortingly at her, "I'm sorry about your mom."

"I'm sorry about your best friend."

….

Imogen and I decided to spend the remainder of the day unpacking and, as she put it, making the room look "lived in." We hung posters and pictures of things that reminded us of home, telling each other stories behind each one. She put up some of her paintings. She was an amazing artist and I could plainly see how she got into the school.

I asked her about some of the paintings; what were the meanings behind them? She only responded by telling me: "A picture's worth a thousand words, Clare. Let it speak for itself," then by taking a few spare moments to look at the picture before setting it down or hanging it up.

I shook it off, wondering about the mysterious girl. She seemed so upbeat, outgoing, and open to the world, but I had a lingering feeling that she was bottling secrets and keeping things to herself. In a way, she reminded me of Julia; she spoke the unsaid words through her artwork. Unfortunately for me, I was terrible at decoding art, so I couldn't find those unspoken words of her character.

~xxxxx~

Classes didn't start for another couple days, so Imogen and I slept in the next morning until about 11 AM. When we finally got up, we went to the coffee shop on campus to wake ourselves up. We sat and drank our coffee as she babbled endlessly about her dream. She drew it out as she spoke it, drawing every detail: the background pictures, the sky, and the backs of the people's heads that stood in a line looking at something. I watched her avidly.

Suddenly, someone approached us, "Clare Edwards. Long time not talk," Eli looked at me for a second, making my stomach do a little flip, and then he flickered his gaze to Imogen, "Hello, new face. I'm Eli." He smirked and offered her his hand to shake.

She shook his hand and beamed an award-winning smile at him, "Imogen Moreno, pleased to meet you."

He smiled back at her and looked down at her picture, "What are you drawing there?"

"A scene from the dream I had last night. This particular one stuck with me. I'm just trying to make sense of it," she pressed her lips together then added some more detail.

Eli pulled a chair right next to her, intrigued, he looked at the picture for a long hard second, "They're all in black?" He asked her as she added the last dark shade to the peoples clothing.

I felt a ping of jealousy as they sat so close and he looked so interested in what she had to say or do next. _Did he ever look at me like that?_ I wanted to join in on it, so they wouldn't forget I was there, too, "And everything's so dark and gloomy.." I said, trying to sound confident.

They both looked up at me then back down at the picture, "Yes, it is. But the dream had a sickeningly happy feeling to it…" Imogen tilted her head at the picture, "And look at the random beauty, the flowers, the tree… I don't get it."

"It kind of looks like a burial, I wish I could see what they were looking at," Eli said, squinting his eyes.

"A happy burial?" I rolled my eyes and laughed lightly, "I doubt it."

"No, I think he's right Clare," Imogen said, smiling at Eli, "Now if I could only figure out why… Why—"

"Is it happy?" Eli cut in, finishing her sentence and looking at her curiously, "You should tell me if you find out. It could make for a really plot to a novel." He got up and smiled at both of us and walked away without another word.

Imogen looked at me, "Who was_ he?_" Her eyes glazed over happily.

"Eli Goldsworthy, h-he was Julia's boyfriend when she died," I told her, trying to keep my cool as I saw her face turn from love struck to pained.

"I was going to tell you that I think he's hot, oh and insightful! But that doesn't seem like a good idea anymore," she spoke nervously, looking down at her drawing.

"O-oh! I see… yeah, I'm not really sure he's ready to date again," I told her, making up a lie on the spot. Jealousy soared through me like a waterfall in my veins. Although we were never technically a couple, I felt undeniably connected to Eli, I couldn't help it.

She nodded, "Understandable," she sighed and picked up her pencil again, shading a few more details.

"I think I'm going to go back to the room to shower. You think you can handle leaving this place alone and not getting lost?" I asked her jokingly before I stood up.

"I'll figure it out," she smiled, "text me."

"Okay," I smiled and then made my way back to our room.

….

I rummaged through my dresser for something to wear. Maybe something Eli would notice me in, something I'd look good in. _Get out,_ A whispered voice filled the air, just as I found the perfect denim skirt to wear. I froze and looked around for the source of the voice.

_Get out. _

**Okay, boom. Do you get the gist of it? Maybe? AND I want to point out now, this is not an EClare fanfic, I'm not even sure it's Imogeli yet. Mainly, any romance that goes on will be fillers. So, I hope whichever I choose doesn't offend you or whatever. Anyway, you should review and tell me what you're thinking (: And you should check out my other stories if you haven't yet, (LIKE "WHEN THINGS ARE BROKEN" okay(: ) **


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